Tearing the envelope across he threw the bits into the fire.
"There it is," he said.
Her eyes grew round; she said in an awed voice: "Oh!"
In a sort of agony of honesty he said:
"It was only a cheque. Now you've got your way."
Staring at the fire she answered slowly:
"I expect you'd better go before mother comes."
Bob Pillin's mouth fell afar; he secretly agreed, but the idea of
sacrificing a moment alone with her was intolerable, and he said
hardily:
"No, I shall stick it!"
Phyllis sneezed.
"My hair isn't a bit dry," and she sat down on the fender with her back
to the fire.
A certain spirituality had come into Bob Pillin's face. If only he could
get that wheeze off: "Phyllis is my only joy!" or even: "Phyllis--do
you--won't you--mayn't I?" But nothing came--nothing.
And suddenly she said:
"Oh! don't breathe so loud; it's awful!"
"Breathe? I wasn't!"
"You were; just like Carmen when she's dreaming."
He had walked three steps towards the door, before he thought: 'What
does it matter? I can stand anything from her; and walked the three
steps back again.
She said softly:
"Poor young man!"
He answered gloomily:
"I suppose you realise that this may be the last time you'll see me?"
"Why? I thought you were going to take us to the theatre.
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